Saturday
by reflecting
Summary: EdxWin. Fuffy PWP with a little lemon. One day in the married life of Edward and Winry Elric.


**Pairing: **Edward x Winry

**Rating:** M, for Mature Content (sex scene)

**Warnings:** English isn't my first language, this is my first attempt at EdxWin, there are a LOT of fluff, characters might be OOC (probably haha), there is NO PLOT (a.k.a PWP)

**A/N:** Well, not so sure about this, but I'm posting it anyway because....it's fricking 8 word pages long and I didn't write all that for nothing haha :P Anyway, I have no backstory for this. If you really need one, use your imagination or use this short summary;

Following the anime's story, Edward is now home in Amestris somehow and he and Winry started dating and are now married living in Winry's house. Their age? I imagined somewhere between late twenties and early thrities. Alphonse? Off somewhere living his own life. Pinako? Dead. Den? Dead. Well, that made me feel like a bastard but hey, they can't live forever. And they're not in the story. Opps.

Anyway, moving on...hope you'll like it! Go easy on me :)

* * *

**Saturday**

She had never really gotten a hang of the whole cleaning business. Mopping floors, dusting shelves and washing the dishes aside, she just _could not_ organize her workplace into some kind of proper looking order that lasted for more than a month. It was just bad luck that her husband was the same, minus the mopping floors, dusting shelves and washing the dishes. The house looked like a civil war had broken out, and that was putting it mildly when a week without any apparent effort of cleaning had been made. It frustrated Winry to no end, because really, the so-called mess was actually extremely logical to her; she knew where she had everything – every single bolt and every single wrench. The problem was that it didn't _look_ like it made any kind of sense.

Which was why, for the umpteenth time throughout the years, she stood looking over her workshop with a determined glare in place and a piece of paper in her hand.

It was time to _organise._

Sparing the clock on the wall a quick glance she took notice of the time – 6.34am – before getting started. She needed to catalogise her tools, the half-finished automail parts, the different brands of oil and disinfection liquids, the used and the unused rags, the bolts, screws, nails, hinges (always good to have at hand, despite having an alchemist in the house) and various other pieces of metal other people would call junk (_other_ mostly referring to a certain alchemy freak). Being a quite efficient working person, Winry estimated that she might be done around lunch, since she had already done a bit of the work yesterday (mopping floors and dusting shelves). With a deep breath, she started to rummage through the pile of metal currently occupying her desk. She had to start _somewhere_.

Time passed quite quickly after that. She hardly noticed the minutes turn into hours as she cleaned and organised the messy room. She was the same when she worked with her automail, the only difference being that she found no pleasure in doing this task. Her lack of humming and the thin, impatient line her lips formed was proof of that. The clock on the wall showed 9.07am by now, and she didn't notice when the door she had closed securely before getting started was opened to reveal a slightly annoyed, golden-haired young man. His glare on her back went unnoticed, and he shifted slightly to lean against the doorframe as he waited for her to turn around. She did no such thing, and as the seconds ticked by, his glare softened to an amused gaze and thin lips turned up in a grin.

"Did you drop something?" he asked, startling her so bad that she hit her head against the table she was currently crawling under as she jumped in fright, letting out a dismayed yelp.

"Edward!!" she hissed, emerging from underneath the table with her hand caressing the sore spot on her head, glaring daggers (or, in her case, wrenches) at the man. His grin widened and she was unsure if this was because seconds before he'd had a full view of her rear, or because she was so easily startled. After dating, and finally marrying the man, she was beginning to think it was more of the first rather then the latter in most cases.

"Yes?" he said, replying to her annoyed exclamation of his name. Growling, she stood and dusted her dirty pants, noticing several spots of grease smearing as she did. She would have to shower after this she noted before straightening to confront Edward, who was supposed to be standing by the door, but was already making his way towards her. Stopping mere inches away, he leaned forward to place a light kiss on her forehead before reaching around to place a hand against the, by now, clean and tidy table she had been crawling under. Humming in approval and eyed the boxes of tools and various metal parts, and the stacks of papers, blueprints for different models of arms, legs, hands and various other body parts. She found that she could not really stay angry at him _now_, besides, the pain in her head had already dulled into nothing but a slight ache.

"Impressive," he said, moving his gaze from the table to meet hers. "How long have you busied yourself with this?"

Shifting beside him to ease into a more comfortable position (where he didn't trap and restrict her movements), she slid an arm around his waist and faced the table. "Well, since around half pass six, I think." He snorted, shaking his head as he removed his hand from the table to ruffle his long hair. She noted that it wasn't up in a ponytail yet, and he was still in his long pyjama pants and oversized t-shirt, meaning he'd just gotten up. Rolling her eyes, she slipped away from his warmth to walk towards the door, tugging at his shirt to make him follow. "What? Some people actually get up decently in the mornings to get some work done," she said, responding to his snort of disbelief. She got a "yeah, right" in reply, which she promptly ignored to avoid an argument she knew she would lose. The only times she got up as early as this morning was when she absolutely had to, or when a cleaning-mania like this made her do it. She usually slept in just as much as her darling husband, but that needn't be voiced.

"Have you had breakfast yet?" he asked as they exited her workshop, making their way towards the kitchen. "No," she said with a shake of her head, "I wasn't hungry, so I figured I'd wait for you." He nodded and they entered the kitchen, Winry heading directly for the sink to clean her face and hands.

"I'm making us an omelette," Edward said, already rummaging through the fridge. "Do you want something more?"

"Yeah, I could do with some sandwiches," she replied, shaking her hands to rid them of some of the water before drying them off. She turned to find him by the stove, pan in hand. Walking over to the bench beside him, she reached for the box containing bread and set to work as Edward threw the third egg into the pan.

"Ham or cheese?" she asked, buttering a thick slice of bread. Edward hummed, poking the mush of eggs with the wrong end of a ladle. "I'll take both," he said, grinning slightly. Rolling her eyes, and finished up and went to set the table. Once Edward was done, they sat down and started eating. She discovered she was hungrier than she'd thought, and the delicious omelette disappeared quickly from her plate, followed by the sandwiches and the glass of milk. Edward watched her, amused; fighting the urge to comment on her manner of eating till she was done. He was swallowing his last piece of ham and cheese sandwich when the last drop of milk ran down her throat and he laughed slightly when she coughed and put a hand against her chest to ease whatever knot of food that stuck there.

"Did you even taste it before swallowing?" he asked, using her favourite expression whenever he ate in the manner she had just done. She glared, coughing one last time before huffing in annoyance. "At least I have an excuse," she said, standing to put away the dishes. "I was really hungry." He followed suit, swallowing the last of the orange juice in his glass as he did. "Oh? How comes that's never a valid excuse when I use it?" he inquired, grinning. She rolled her eyes, dumping her glass and plate in the sink. "Because you get hungry an hour after eating. I got up really early and we had dinner earlier than usual yesterday, remember? That and the fact that I've been working non-stop would make the excuse _valid_, Edward."

He laughed again and put his arms around her slim waist, having already put away his own dishes as she spoke. Pulling her close, he gazed into her summer-sky blue eyes with amusement. "Well, unlike you, I don't really care how you eat. Even if you have crumbs and pieces of egg all over your face now."

Blushing slightly in embarrassment, Winry quickly looked away to wipe her face before sending him a glare. He bent down and licked her cheek before she could open her mouth to complain, making her freeze in slight shock. She didn't have time to scold him before his lips pressed against hers in a soft kiss, draining her anger for each second it lingered. She figured kissing was better than having an argument and started to respond as his tongue traced her lower lip. Opening her mouth, she slipped her own tongue out to meet his; sending a slight shiver up her spine once he bent down and captured it in a deeper kiss. She sighed in content, burying her fingers in his hair and arching slightly inside the circle of his arms; feeling a need to press her body against his. The warmth he radiated was pleasant, relaxing to the point where her knees began to feel weak. It didn't burn with passion and need, but soothed her till she was a pile of blissful goo in his hands. It amazed him how wonderfully she always responded to him and it drove him on. His hands were running lazily up and down her back while he kissed her soft lips, enjoying the sounds of her breathy sighs and moans. Breaking away, he left a trail of kisses along her jaw and down her throat, to end by the juncture between neck and shoulder. Moving up, he nuzzled the hair by her ear and stilled his hands, bringing them to the small of her back and pressing her close. Her own hands were still in his hair, slowly combing through the strands as her cheek gently caressed the side of his head. They stood unmoving for a few moments before Edward spoke up, voice lsightly muffled by her hair.

"You smell like grease," he commented with a grin, earning himself a sharp tug at his hair. "What did you expect?! I've been crawling around my workshop all morning trying to put it into _some_ kind of order! And I was actually planning on showering once I was done, you idiot," she shot back, moving to slip out of his grasp but he only tightened his hold of her, making her huff in frustration.

"Do you plan on working in there all day?" he asked, ignoring her little rant. Giving up her fight for freedom, Winry sighed. "I plan on being in there for as long as it takes to get done, yes," was her reply. He removed his face from her silky hair and straightened a bit to look into her eyes, charming smile in place. "Can't you leave it as it is for the time being? You can continue tomorrow." She raised a brow in question, eyeing him suspiciously. "What do you want now?" His eyes twinkled slightly in amusement, but the smile lost its teasing tilt. "Why don't you spend the day with me, hm?"

She couldn't really reject him, because no matter how sure she was she couldn't love him any more than she already did, the warmth in his eyes, smile and touch whenever he asked for something like that never ceased to make her fall for him all over again.

-

The rest of the day continued in mostly the same fashion. Nothing too out of the ordinary occurred, apart from Edward dragging her into the bathroom for a shower. She refused to get in with him unless they took a bath instead, insisting that it was a lot more comfortable. She didn't voice that it was a lot cosier as well, and he didn't mention that a shower would've been easier for what he'd had in mind. He never got what he'd planned though, because it ended up in a rather silly mock-fight where they splashed the room with water as they tried to hit the other with as much as possible. Cleaning that up had taken only a few moments, and soon Winry was towelling his hair while chatting away about the plans she'd made for her next visit to Rush Valley. She didn't appreciate how he'd tugged at the towel wrapper around her body as soon as the conversation started to bore him, and Edward had been forced to run when he'd managed to get it off of her completely. He'd quite enjoyed the chase to the bedroom, glancing over his shoulder to admire the way her breasts bounced in time with her steps as she ran, desperately trying to cover herself up with her hands but failing deliciously. Once inside their bedroom she'd jumped at him, making him fall to the floor quite painfully. He ignored it in favour of taking in the site of his naked wife seated on top of him, flustered with embarrassment and anger. Winry squeaked in surprise when he bucked his hips to make her aware of what this was doing to him, but his hope sunk to the bottom as she smirked and got up, ignoring him as she dressed, giving him _that_ look (which meant he wouldn't get what he wanted, no matter how hard he'd try).

She'd gracefully left him alone in the bedroom and he'd sighed, shivering in disgust as the last images of the worst kind he could think of disappeared from his mind, leaving him anything but aroused. Pulling on a pair of cotton pants, a fresh shirt and his favourite pair of slippers Edward had exited and gone off in a search for his wife.

He'd found her in the living room, sitting on the couch while combing her hair with her fingers, a frown in place. Walking over to the bookshelf, he chose a book he hadn't read for quite some time before making his way over to Winry. She allowed him to sit down beside her, and silently obeyed when Edward directed her to lie against him as he made himself comfortable. She rested her head against his chest and he started to flip through the book, enjoying the warmth that she provided. Soon she fell asleep, his fingers slipping through her hair and massaging her scalp being so soothing it worsened her already dazed, sleepy state and made her eyelids unbearably heavy. When she awoke it was to the sound of Edward's soft snores, and she slowly blinked to try and get her blurry vision to focus. It was noticeably darker in the room, and she realized it must be afternoon. Shifting to look up at Edward, she found that he'd placed the book over his face and one hand rested on it, keeping it in place, and his other hand lay unmoving on her hip. Twisting to lie on her stomach, she moved carefully as to not wake him and slowly removed the book. Letting it slip down to the floor with a light 'thump', she smiled softly as she observed his sleeping face, admiring the sincere expression he wore. With each breath he took, his chest heaved and she felt herself being lifted ever so slightly, making her wonder if her weight made it hard for him to breathe. Reluctant to move, she figured that if he could fall sleep with her lying on him then it was alright.

Lowering her head to his chest once more, she inched upwards till her nose bumped into his neck. Nuzzling the soft skin, she sighed and closed her eyes again to listen to his breathing. Which, she noticed now, had stopped making that tell-tale noise of sleep. He was no longer snoring.

"Are you awake?" she asked in a soft voice, inhaling his scent and keeping her eyes closed. He shifted underneath her, sneaking his arms around her form and squeezing lightly. "No," he grumbled, stilling his movements once more. She giggled, struggling against his grip as she tried to sit up. When she didn't give in and let her go with a sigh, opening his eyes to stare up at her. "What?" he asked, slightly annoyed by the lack of soft, warm wife sprawled over his chest. She grinned, straddling him, and put her hands on his shoulders as she leaned forward to kiss his lips briefly before speaking. "It's late and we haven't had lunch yet. Do you want to eat now and have a late dinner, or wait and have only dinner instead?"

Contemplating the question, he tried to ignore the weight over his hips and the sweet lingering of her kiss in order to come to a decision. Sighing, he shrugged. "I don't know, it doesn't really matter. I'll go with whatever you want." She smiled, leaning in to give him another kiss that lasted a bit longer than intended before slipping off to stand and stretch, making her spine do a few satisfying cracks. "Just dinner it is then!" she chirped, smiling brightly while Edward sat up slowly, sighing as he too stood.

"So, what's for dinner?"

-

It took them two hours to get dinner done, but Edward didn't mind. Winry had insisted they'd try out a new recipe for chicken-in-weird-gooey-substance (he barely recalled all the different ingredients for that sauce), and since none of them were any chefs it took some time to get it done. The result was fully edible though, despite the suspicious colouring and Edward found himself stuffed after she'd served him his seconds.

Another hour had passed as they'd cleaned up the mess after breakfast and dinner, teasing and pleasant conversation distracting them slightly from their task. Once done, Edward suggested they'd take a drink, and Winry had convinced him that it would be lovely to enjoy it on the porch. The cold autumn night didn't seem to make her wary, so he reluctantly followed her upstairs to grab an extra layer of clothing. He told her to wait outside for him while he fixed the drinks, Winry's favourite liqueur and a plain whiskey for himself. Once he stepped out on the porch, breath immediately turning to steam, she had already made herself comfortable on the couch he'd made for them a while back when he realized how much Winry loved to sit out here. He grinned as he observed her, closing the door behind him with his foot before walking over. Amongst the many pillows she'd carried out and wrapped in a big blanket, Winry sat waiting for him, nose already a light pink because of the cold. How she still managed to look so adorable despite having left childhood a long time ago, he didn't know. He blamed it on her wide, blue eyes, soft cheeks and button-like nose.

"Hurry up and get in here," she growled, having unwound the blanket for him. He complied, careful to not spill the drinks, and almost immediately she stuck by his side, snuggled up close. Laughing he handed her the fruity drink, wrapping his arm around her shoulders after she'd taken it from his hand. She sat in silence, gazing up at the clear night's sky and enjoying the contrast between the chilly air and the warmth the other's body provided. It wasn't until he'd finished his drink that he decided they better head back inside, since she'd started to shiver every so slightly. She didn't mind, following him in a slightly dazed state. The drink and his warmth had left her sleepy once again, but she became alert once more as they got inside and Edward bent down to steal a kiss before leaving to refill their glasses. She went to the living room to wait, and had only just sat down when he entered the room again, this time with the bottles in had as well. She grinned, getting up again to help him carry it to the small table.

"We should put on the gramophone we got from Roy," she commented idly, leaning against Edward as he sat down with her. He snorted. "No way, I'm not getting up again," was his reply, making her roll her eyes as she took a sip of her drink. After a few moments of silence, she engaged him in a light-hearted conversation. Time passed without any notice, and she found herself forgetting how many times her glass had been refilled. She felt comfortably dizzy, a warm kind of happiness filling her from the inside as she sat giggling at something that had nothing to do with what Edward was saying. He didn't seem to mind, because like her, his smiles and movements were becoming lazy and his golden orbs were following her slightly unfocused as she used gestures to illustrate her story of the old woman of the Wilson farm complaining yet _again_ about her lack of femininity and skills as a housewife. He was greatly amused, although it annoyed him that the old granny kept complaining about his wife who was, in fact, the most perfect wife he could think of. The amusement won though, because Winry had begun to describe the old woman's character and she had a knack for doing it in a most hilarious way.

But he decided it was enough when her chatter had died down to a few slurry sentences, and when he felt his arms and legs grow slightly weak. Unsteadily, he got up and helped her stand as well, leaving the bottles and glasses for tomorrow. His arm around her shoulder and her arm around his waits, they made their way upstairs to the bedroom, almost tripping a few times along the way. He laughed softly as she giggled, and they didn't even bother to close their bedroom door as they stumbled inside. He helped her undress, but it was difficult when she decided he needed help as well. He didn't stop her from unzipping his pants though, but laughed at the fact that she'd started with them and not his shirt. When he spoke his mind it earned him a cheeky grin that made him lean down to kiss her, because damn, she was beautiful. Once his lips were pressed against hers he had no intention of stopping, and her eager response told him she didn't expect him to. He clumsily undid the last buttons of her shirt and was not surprised to find that she had no bra. She usually didn't during days like these, which he thought was very pleasant, and she often found herself trapped inside the circle of his arms more frequently.

Moaning, she let him push her down on their bed without complaint. She was still tugging at his boxers, and he left her briefly to remove his shirt, giving her time to catch her breath. He dipped down again, this time only for a short kiss before he broke away to leave a trail of kisses down her neck and onto the slender curve of her shoulder. He sucked at the warm flesh as he kicked off the boxers she'd managed to slip down his hips, making her shiver and arch up from the bed ever so slightly. Moving further down, he sucked and nibbled at her one breast while his hands caressed her sides, occasionally stroking her lower stomach and quivering inner thighs. She was sensitive when sober, but like this, she was even more so. It made her impatient, and he took perverse pleasure in teasing her to the point where she would resort to trying to overpower him (which she never could unless he allowed it, and he did, quite often). Smirking against her skin, he directed his hands further down her stomach, reaching her damp sex with ease. She squirmed underneath him, parting her legs further, and let out a high-pitched moan as his fingers slipped between her two lips, brushing past her aching bundle of nerves. Her hands reached up to grab his soft hair, removing the loose cord that was keeping it in place. The golden locked spilled out over his shoulders and onto her sensitive skin, ticking her breasts and making her choke on a moan as she tried to sigh, his finger increasing its pressure at the same moment. She whined in protest when the pressure disappeared to a feathery light caress once again, but quickly bit her lip when his teeth closed around her nipple and tugged. The moan escaped her anyway, and she refused to acknowledge his breathy laugh against the now damp skin of her breast. It was with some difficulty that she silenced her squeal of surprise when he suddenly moved; sliding down her body as he sat up on his knees and brought her legs with him.

"Your smell…" was all he said, in a quiet murmur, before he bent down to lick at the exposed flesh or her womanhood. She cried out, the soft warmth of his tongue moving hard against her sensitive nub. Her hips bucked in response, but his grip of her was secure; legs throws over his arms on either side of him and hips positioned high enough for him to reach. Her hands clenched the fabric of their bed's cover as he continued; licking, sucking and nibbling till she didn't know what do to with herself. She was so close, head trashing from side to side, and her muscles tensed before relaxing over and over again, depending on where his tongue headed. She thought she would come once it slipped into her, but it left after a mere stroke and he lowered her back to the mattress again, leaving the place between her legs throbbing with one long, slow lick that he continued, changing between nibbles and kisses until he arrived at her mouth. She was whimpering, helplessly grinding her hips against him to find some sort of stimulation. He did nothing to stop her, merely bend down to kiss her and leave a taste of her own arousal before resting his forehead against her shoulder; inhaling deeply as her hips continued to rock against him. The soft, wet warmth of her sex slid against his hardened arousal, making him groan in pleasure. The alcohol in his system made it difficult to resist the urge to match her desperate thrusts, but he only allowed himself a few before he moved out of reach, catching his breath and enjoying the sound of his wife's agonised whimpers of unsatisfied pleasure.

He decided he'd done enough teasing for tonight, fearing he might not last long enough to silence the strong need of her that was growing inside of him. Moving up to kiss her again, he slipped into her warmth without warning and accidentally bit her lower lip at the sudden pleasure of her tight warmth surrounding him. She let out a cry of pleasure, barely noticing the sting of his teeth as he quickly soothed it with his tongue. He did not get much time to adjust, because she was already bucking her hips impatiently and stealing his breath away with the way she clenched her inner muscles. With a slight frown of concentration, he begun to move; thrusting deeply, but slowly. She whimpered, breathing pleas of _harder, faster, stronger_ in his ear. It was driving him mad, but he found his body complying with ease. Her hands were moving up and down his body, caressing his nipples, stroking his muscles and brushing the hair out of his face. Her eyes were half closed, her mouth half open. Her breathing matched his thrusts and they seemed to press the air out of her lungs, and her legs were wrapped tightly around his waist to bring him closer, _deeper_. His hands gripped the sheets on either side of her head, getting a better grip as he braced himself against his arms and knees to put more strength in his movements. She arched against him, her nub rubbing against him as he pushed forward, and he could feel her muscles clenching around him as a jolt of pleasure run through her body. He watched intently as she climaxed, knowing he would follow soon. It was one of the things he hated with alcohol; it made his stamina drop too low for his tastes. He would wake up, sober, and realize he had not enjoyed her as thoroughly as he'd wanted, which led to either a pleasant continuation in the morning, or a very pissy day should she not agree with his eagerness. But as he felt the tightly wrung spring of his desire release, such thoughts left his mind along with anything else. For a second or two, the world was gone. There was only the bliss tugging at his body, only the intense pleasure of satisfaction.

Then he collapsed, and rolled over to avoid hurting the woman underneath him. Blinking, his golden eyes focused on her face and he took in the small smile of satisfaction gracing her lips. Reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ear, he flashed her one in return. She giggled, moving up to tug at the covers. He helped her throw it over them, and gestured for her to come closer. She did, and snuggled his chest contently while he embraced her. His soft gaze caressed her face, and the immense feeling of pure happiness assaulted his senses at that moment. A few years ago, this was something he'd only dreamt of during the darkest hour of the night, when the suppressed dreams and wishes he carried around let themselves loose. He wasn't sure how he'd gotten to this point in life, but he would give anything to stay where he was. Peace, quiet. No more travelling, because everything he needed was here. Love, _family._ It was more than he deserved, but he was not willing to let it go.

Exhaling, he shifted slightly; burying his nose in her sunny, soft hair. Sleep tugged at his senses and it didn't take long before his light snores told his wife he was now deep asleep. She smiled. It had been a lovely day, although it hadn't gone as she'd originally planned; her workshop was only half-done and she was still behind in her work since Thursday. But she had no work tomorrow either, and she wouldn't have to worry about it till Monday. Smiling, she let the sound of his snores lull her to sleep, mind going pleasantly blank as she slipped into oblivion

Saturdays, they were the best.


End file.
